


Friends in Strange Places

by oh_so_loverly



Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins, The Hunger Games (Movies)
Genre: Dissociation, Dissociative Identity Disorder, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-12
Updated: 2016-09-12
Packaged: 2018-08-14 14:55:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,109
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8018410
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oh_so_loverly/pseuds/oh_so_loverly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which, Katniss and Peeta make new friends (sort of?) in the lobby of Peeta's apartment building.</p><p>Basically inspired by this article ( http://www.vice.com/read/the-night-my-girlfriend-forgot-who-i-was-944 ) by Vice / ‘Anonymous’. Obviously, I do not own the Hunger Games or the characters in it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Friends in Strange Places

The white stone in the lobby echoes back in the late-night silence. Katniss Everdeen leans against a wall, trained instincts leading her steel grey eyes to keenly assess everything, the occasional flicker of fluorescent lights above. Though this might be the third time she’s been in Peeta’s apartment complex, that doesn’t mean she’s willing to let her guard down. Parade Suites, the name of this complex, has two separate wings, with about ten stories each. Their security doorman typically leaves the front desk at 11 o'clock, though there is twenty-four-seven, 360-degree camera surveillance, guards on call, and on-duty peacekeepers outside building's entry. The front is the only way in or out, Parade Suites ID scan-card is needed to unlock the front doors- unless you want to set off fire alarms, alerting security, and get a fine. Unless, like Katniss, you get buzzed in. Who knows who might get buzzed in under the pretense of being a delivery-man? This is the main hub to two different apartment towers, boasting probably over a thousand apartments. Anyone could be walking these halls.

Katniss runs a hand through her dark hair, second-guessing her decision to remove it from its regular side-braid. The frizzy strands tend to get in her eyes, distracting and irritating her. She hasn’t bothered to put any hairspray in, never mind styling her wavy locks. After hours of playing nice to get a good tip, she can’t be bothered to do much, even for her boyfriend of three years. Changing into a blouse and simple jeans, she knows Peeta Mellark won’t mind. She has put on lipgloss- pinkish-orange, one he’s complimented her on before. It will be his birthday on Monday, after all.

This is also the last weekend before summer ends. Many urbanites have left the city in favor of the beaches, or suburban barbecues. If she hadn’t worked the twelve-eleven shift, if Peeta still were on speaking terms with his family, they might've already hit the road to Handler. Maybe they’d have plans to visit their small, rural childhood hometown for a four-day weekend getaway. Only, they don’t have much family down there to celebrate the end of summer with.

College students might have already begun invading the city for the semester, yet Katniss and Peeta have been content to remain here, having one another for company.

Peeta’s brothers have followed suit with their mother— Phil and Paul live on the West Coast now, anyway, but Mrs. Mellark’s judgements have always reigned supreme in the household. Mr. Mellark has never wanted to go against his wife when she goes on a tirade. Working as an artist on a freelance basis, while profitable (at times), is hardly the career in business that Mrs. Mellark wanted her son to pursue. A career as a chef, which had been the deal struck allowing Peeta to go to a private, out-of-state college, would have been preferable in her mind.

_“At least pick a career that is useful!” Mrs. Mellark had screeched._

His mother doesn’t seem to appreciate just how well Peeta is doing in his ‘ridiculous attempt at a career.’ Apart from successfully having several shows and selling several works since graduating college, Peeta works at a successful Gallery on the Capitol’s Upper West Side, and makes about three times as much as Katniss does from waitressing. Even a career in This apartment building is in a well-to-do area of the Capitol, commonly called the Strip, and Peeta living here is a big deal. Having two incomes combined, Katniss and Johanna, her roommate, had to settle on a one-bedroom apartment towards an industrial area of the West River. And that still leaves Johanna sleeping on their pull-out couch.

It boils down to that, by living in his own studio apartment in the Capitol, and paying for everything on his own, Peeta is far from Mrs. Mellark’s clutches. Too far for the baker’s wife to tolerate.

At least Katniss’s sister still talks to her. Prim works for the Red Cross, and has been sent down to Louisiana as part of a humanitarian aid after all the flooding. Gale Hawthorne, the closest thing Katniss ever had to a brother, has been stationed overseas for months with the military. Gale’s high-school sweetheart (now his wife), Madge, had accompanied him, leaving Katniss with precious Skype sessions, few and far between, with both of her long-time friends.

Mrs. Everdeen had long since moved to Florida. Katniss’s mother’s birthday card last month, mailed to the address Prim reluctantly provided, had been received. Katniss knows it went through, because in turn, she received forty-seven cents in the mail.

 _‘For your shipping fees,’_ Mrs. Everdeen had written.

The elevator dings, providing distraction for a preoccupied mind. Katniss had written her new cell number, along with her new address on the card. She hadn’t exactly wanted her mother to show up at the apartment Katniss and her prickly roommate lived in, but, still. Acknowledgement was apparently the best she would get in terms of communication.

Only tonight isn’t about that.

No, tonight is for her and Peeta, for them to have a good time, maybe a drink or two, and relax away the last hours of summer.

No drama, that’s their pact.

Part of it, at least.

The other is, keep moving forward.

They wouldn’t necessarily have many options for what to do if they lived anywhere else, not with it being late at night. Fortunately, the Capitol is massive; there is usually one event or another they can find to do together, despite hectic schedules. Tonight, they have tickets to see the 12:30 a.m. premiere of _Captain Abernathy,_ the film adaptation of a biographical account, with parts set in their hometown. Captain Haymitch Abernathy was born in the hamlet of Sommen, same as Katniss, and went to Handler High School. Growing up, Peeta and Katniss had heard about what an patriot he was, how lucky they were that he lived in their small town. Katniss had never felt particularly inspired, though. After selfless acts of heroism at the Battle of the Quell, Abernathy ended up back in Handler. He crawled into a bottle of whiskey, and, apart from tepid-at-best ‘motivational speeches’ to high-schoolers, had remained there since.

The movie had been Peeta’s idea. Katniss mocked that it was hardly moving forward. How real could a film be, Peeta argued, when its trailer alleged to be, ‘Inspired by true events’? Maybe the film version of Haymitch wouldn’t vomit into a microphone. If he did, at least they didn’t have to deal with the smell.

“Hey!” Peeta greets, loudly. He is visibly tired, but still happy. Red, blue and yellow paint stains the crevices of his nails, though Katniss is certain he has made a valiant attempt to scrub the medium off. Crossing from the South Wing's elevator, he wraps his arms around Katniss’s waist.

She shifts, ever-awkward when the possibility of voyeurism presents itself. It’s the reason she tucked herself into a corner, the reason Peeta doesn’t come to her apartment; the reason she’d rather meet him in the foyer of the building instead of the street. Katniss and attention weren’t the best pairing.

The gaggle of young adults, who had arrived at the Ground Floor alongside Peeta, have, to all appearances, pre-gamed too much to notice anyone else. Let’s get crunked! is the almost-midnight catchphrase. Both Peeta and Katniss hold in their laughter until the group has shut the front door.

 _More trust-fund babies,_ Katniss muses.

Interlacing their fingers, Katniss tugs Peeta closer to her, resisting a moan as his lips meet hers.

“How was your day?” Peeta’s blue eyes sparkle as the couple pulls apart. His lips spread into a teasing grin.

Katniss rolls her eyes, cringing. “Don’t ask.”

“As you wish.” Peeta laughs, warm breath tickling against her lips, before his hands shift, lacing his fingers in hers. “Let’s get going.”

“Yeah…,” Katniss murmurs, before pulling him back for another kiss, grateful when one hand slides up, cupping her cheek. Lips pop apart, foreheads resting against one another.

“D’you actually want to see this movie?” Peeta teases. “I mean, you still haven’t tried out my new mattress…”

“Shut up.” Katniss puts a hand on his chest, pushing him away.

It’s true. Despite the many times they’ve been in one another’s apartments, Peeta’s bed never has been tested out. Other parts of his apartment, well, have been. It's been slow- Katniss took five years to say yes to dating, and Peeta's never forced the pace to go faster than what they both are comfortable with.

Katniss can feel heat rise in her cheeks. Attempting a scowl, it doesn't fully-form, what with her lips being turned into a smirk. The comfort of his touch thrums warmth against her skin, and all she wants is to stay in his arms for the rest of the evening. Peeta pulls away. A beep sounds before the front clicks opened, another couple entering.

The man is undeniably gorgeous, roughly 6’2, golden-tanned, bronze-haired, with beautiful green eyes. He is dressed in perhaps the most metrosexual style imaginable. Coiffed hair, half-buttoned dress shirt, tight jeans that are fashionably faded; he has a tie,more draped than tied about his neck. The young woman accompanying him, however, triggers Katniss’s suspicions. She is petite, around Katniss’s height. She is dressed for a party, with high heels, a pearl necklace, and a cocktail dress, which matches the dark blue of the man’s loosely-knotted tie. She has auburn hair which hangs in loose curls, a soft, rounded face, and bright blue-green eyes.

But something is off, because the expression in her eyes is haunting. Widely dilated, flickering around this way and that. Legs slow their pace the further they get into the building.

The young woman is visibly terrified.

Peeta’s hand tightens around Katniss’s. Though they had been about to head out, they stand frozen where they are, watching as the woman begins to panic. The other couple is oblivious to both Katniss or Peeta. As they look on, the young woman tears her hand out of the man’s grasp, booking it towards the entrance. The man yells out, grabbing the girl around the waist, pulling her back. She screams, a bloodcurdling sort of wail, cutting Katniss to the bone.

Peeta rushes forward. He shoves the man away, strong arms pinning the stranger to the wall. The young woman stumbles to a corner, hands gripping over her ears as she begins to cry.

“Get off me!” the man shoves Peeta off of him, moving towards the girl. “Ann, come on-“

Katniss moves in front of the young woman, blocking her protectively. “Don’t even think about it.”

The man raises his hands, his chest heaving, his focus flicking over Katniss’s shoulder towards the girl.

“Listen, I’m not trying to hurt her-“

“Bullshit,” Peeta snaps, turning to the girl. “Do you know this guy?”

The girl, cowering in a corner, is staring between the three of them, shaking her head. Peeta turns, shoving the man back.

“She does know me, I’m just taking her home-“

“I’m calling the police,” Katniss announces, pulling out her phone.

“Don’t- Christ! She’s my girlfriend!” the man tries to push past Peeta. The stocky former-wrestler blocks the taller man once again. “Annie— look at me, okay? Everything’s okay, this is your apartment building, I’m just taking you upstairs.”

The girl stares at him, her shoulders raising seemingly expecting an attack. Katniss approaches her, putting a tentative hand on her shoulder. She is grateful when the girl, who has silently begun to cry, does not rebuff the action. But 'Annie' remains rigid.

“Do you know him?” Katniss repeats Peeta’s question, trying to keep her voice as soft as possible. “Your name is Annie?”

The young woman gulps heavily. “I-I don’t remember.”

Her answer is either to both questions, or neither.

"Do you live here?" Katniss works to keep her tone calm, though it sounds more grating than anything else. Comfort, other than towards Prim, or Peeta, has never been Katniss's strong suit.

Shaking her head, Annie bites her lip to keep a quiet sob in, stare never leaving the taller man.

"I don't know?"

She doesn’t smell of alcohol, and her eyes aren't bloodshot. From what Katniss can tell, ‘Annie’ isn’t high, or drunk. Despite having no sign of any injury, or intoxication, this woman is completely, and thoroughly disoriented. The man speaks up again, though Peeta keeps him from walking any closer.

“Your name’s Annie Cresta,” the man insists. He says her name almost reverently.  He keeps his hands out, before slowly reaching into his jacket pocket, pulling out a key looped on a lanyard.  “I’m Finnick Odair. We've been dating for five years. You live in this apartment building, I have a copy of your keys.”

Katniss snorts. "Sure you do."

'Finnick' seems to understand, because he huffs. "Annie, look in your purse, there's a key that has twenty-zero-four on it, it says, 'Parade Suites' on it. It matches mine."

The woman looks down at the small clutch, tucked (absentmindedly, perhaps, in her terror) under her arm. She moves slowly, eyes shifting to gage where the man is every other second. She pulls out a set of keys. A lanyard keychain, the same green plastic as the one that Finnick holds in his hands. A white shell is on one end, a Parade Suites ID scan-card, and a few different keys on the other. Indeed, a golden key has '20-04' on one side, 'Parade Suites' on the other. Annie gulps, desperation on her face as she turns to Katniss.

“I want to call Mike,” she whispers, before she turning to Katniss with a pleading expression. “Can you call him?”

“Who is Mike?” Peeta frowns  “Do you know his number-?”

“You can’t call Mike,” the man interjects.

“I want to talk to him. _”_ Annie’s hurt expression is pitiful. "I want to talk to _him!"_

“Annie, you can’t.”

Katniss scowls at Finnick. “Why the hell not?”

Finnick struggles to reply, before moving a step in their direction. Peeta doesn’t block him, as long as he doesn’t move too close. Katniss still tenses.

“I want Mike,” the girl whimpers.

“You can’t call Mike, Annie," his tone is gentle, as if speaking to a small child. "He won’t pick up.”

Katniss frowns, hoping for confirmation from ‘Annie.’ Instead of affirming it, the young woman appears increasingly overwhelmed by confusion. Her chest is beginning to heave again, her distress obvious. Her fingers begin to fidget with her dress, curling the fabric tightly between her hands.

“Do you have your phone in your purse?” Finnick’s maintaining his calm.

The woman pulls her phone from her clutch.

“Call your brother, okay? Bo- you remember Bo?”

Annie’s hands are shaking as she struggles to press the buttons. Katniss peers warily at ‘Finnick,’ scrutinizing him. He doesn’t appear to be a run-of-the-mill serial killer; then again, who did? Even if they did know one another, even if they lived in the same apartment, who’s to say he wasn’t abusive, or a kidnapper, or… a million other terrible, horrible things?

“Bo?!” Annie’s voice cracks as she looks to Katniss again. “He— he’s not there!”

“Is there a voicemail?” Katniss keeps on Annie's shoulder.

Annie blinks at her, trying to process the words. The muffled sounds of something can be heard from the other end. It must be voicemail prompt, because Annie covers her mouth and the receiver, whispering something that sounds distinctly like, ‘help me,’ before hanging up. Shutting the phone, Annie curls in on herself, sliding down the wall until she’s sitting on the floor, her phone on her stomach. Her hands cover her ears.

Peeta’s blue eyes lock with Katniss’s grey.

What if ‘Bo’ doesn’t call back?

“Bo works as an EMT,” Finnick declares absently, as if reading their minds; his gaze is fixed on Annie, a pained expression on his face. He turns to Katniss and Peeta, popping his own phone out, pointing to his screensaver. It’s an image of the couple at a bar, apparently earlier in the evening. Annie is wearing the same dress, Finnick, the same shirt, only with his top fully buttoned, his tie neatly done. They both are beaming widely at one another, holding sparklers. “He usually gets off around midnight. When he calls back, he can confirm. I swear, she’s my girlfriend-“

“No wonder she was trying to get away from you,” Katniss retorts.

"That's-" his lips tighten, a contained anger, quickly swallowed by a neutral stare. “This is a misunderstanding.”

Peeta crosses his arms over his chest. “We’ll be the judge of that.”

Finnick clenches his jaw, shaking his head before leaning his weight against the wall. Tension-filled static lasts for five minutes, until Annie’s phone finally buzzes. Finnick straightens up, as Annie scrambles to answer the incoming call. Her voice gushes out a million questions in a nervous whisper. She pauses to listen, then, sea-green orbs flicking to each of them in turn. Her attention moves Finnick.

"Bo, it's me," the man calls out, loudly.

‘Bo’ speaks for a long time, words garbled except to Annie; she in turn murmurs ‘yes’ or ‘no’ occasionally. Katniss shifts, glance at Peeta, who is frowning. Even if ‘Bo’ confirms what the relationship status is between these two, how can they trust that Finnick isn’t secretly manipulating Annie, or hurting her? The way he grabbed her before, it clearly upset her. Annie is calm enough, at least, but she isn’t in the right frame of mind to judge it for herself, not right now.

Should they just let the two of them go on their merry way? Some random stranger, telling other strangers, that two random strangers, are fine being alone. Katniss's chest tightens, as she watches Annie. A protective instinct has kicked in, and it makes it hard for her to just walk away now.

Annie holds the phone out to Finnick, eyes wide as saucers. “He wants to talk to you.”

There’s relief on his face as Finnick takes the phone. As Annie did, he replies with a quick ‘yes’ or ‘no’, before mentioning, “Two other people are here with us, they live in the building.”

Annie curls her arms around her legs, tilting her head as Finnick pauses.

“Yes- yeah, got it. Thanks- we'll see you tomorrow, man.” Finnick hangs up the phone, handing it back to Annie.

After tucking her phone into her clutch, Annie turns to Katniss, a certain childishness in her expression. She nearly reminds Katniss of Prim, when Prim was younger, not so much in looks as expression.

“Bo said I can go with him.”

Finnick nods, holding out his hand to help her up. Peeta hasn't stopped frowning, and that instinct, that unsettled twinge hasn't left Katniss. Finnick begins to lead Annie towards the North Wing elevators, glancing over his shoulder at the other couple. He pauses his steps.

“You want to come, too,” Finnick states more than asks, looking over his shoulder.

Katniss shifts, bumping Peeta’s shoulder, before giving a not-so-subtle nod. Finnick avoids their withering glances, sighing as he keeps walking. Annie holds his hand, following along.

“I want popcorn,” Annie whispers, mainly to herself, as the group of more-or-less-strangers waits outside of the lift. She hums softly for a while, following Finnick once the lift arrives at the Lobby. She glances to Katniss, tilting her head slightly. Katniss , one she hopes is comforting, but the young woman turns away, as if suddenly shy.

“Which floor?” Peeta presses a button for the door to close, since he is closest to the floor designation panel. His cheeks dimple with a more convincing show of pleasantry. Katniss and Finnick, on the other hand, exchange scowls.

“She’s on the twentieth.”

It’s a longer ride than one would anticipate; apparently, it’s just about that time for more groups of people, the mostly-sober and mostly-drunk alike, to play around with buttons that make the car stop at every other floor. By the time the elevator is pulling away from the sixteenth floor, no one having boarded the entire way up, Annie flops down to sit on the floor, beginning to tug at the straps of her heels.

“My feet hurt,” she murmurs, blinking up at Finnick.

His lips pull into a tight smile, before he kneels down to guide her hands about his neck. He scoops her up, bridal-style, just as the lift speeds up to the twentieth floor. Katniss and Peeta follow the other two out onto the wide, neatly-kempt landing. Undoubtedly, the same colors and materials were used as on Peeta’s floor in the South Wing, except these halls are far wider. Fewer apartments on each floor, too, in order for each apartment to be larger. The North Wing has penthouses at the top two floors, but the rest of the building is designed for more luxury apartments, compared to the South Wing building.

“This way,” Finnick nods to the left, Annie resting her head against Finnick’s shoulder as they head down the hall.

“Which one’s yours?” Peeta inquires.

“Number Four.” Finnick sets Annie on her feet once they arrive, pulling the key out of his pocket.

After undoing the deadbolt and the doorknob, a chirping sound is quickly shut off by Finnick, as he types into a keypad in the wall. Annie follows Finnick in. She stops halfway into the suite to fiddle with the straps of her heels. She kicks them off, throwing them carelessly to the side before Finnick takes her hand again, and begins to walk her through the apartment. An odd sense of déjà vu hits Katniss, as she sees the black-framed pictures, alternating with canvas paintings on the walls. Finnick is bringing Annie around to the paintings, and Katniss can't help but think of their senior year in college. Peeta had taken her by the hand, shown her each of the paintings, told her stories about each of them. He stopped at a painting of Katniss, one that made her look beautiful, radiant- it was from the night she got drunk, slipped on the ice and badly hurt her ankle. She had tried to sloppily kiss him as he helped her up; he had called her friends, walked home with them, brought her cheesebuns in the morning. After she told him how beautiful the painting was, how she didn't look like that, Peeta had asked if she would go on a date with him.

Glancing at Peeta, his blue eyes meet grey and they share a small, knowing smile at the memory.

Far more spacious than Peeta’s studio apartment, it is a pale blue, with white accents. Light-colored wood floors, and plush, white carpets make Katniss want to curl up and sleep on them. It's a calm place, faint scents of jasmine, and citrus. Annie seems content-bordering-on-happy. Finnick walks her through the apartment, pointing out the pictures, paintings, and knick-knacks spread throughout.

“I made this.” Annie pauses by a painting depicting a nude man; muscular with angular features, curly, black hair, chocolate brown eyes. Annie turns to Katniss, pointing to the painting happily. “I _made_ it!”

“It’s good,” Katniss admits. The painting is good- not nearly as good as Peeta, Katniss thinks. It shows more talent than Katniss has ever had, when it comes to art.

“It’s amazing, Annie,” Peeta praises, earning a shy smile.

“That’s Mike,” Annie explains, turning to Finnick. "Do you know Mike?"

That tight smile appears on Finnick's lips again, as he shakes his head. He begins to move away, and Annie follows. They look at a few more pictures, each one delighting Annie. She points out an odd-shaped sculpture, which sits on the coffee table. It is elongated, and narrow.

“That is a penis,” Annie innocently explains.

Katniss’s eyes nearly bug out of her skull, and she has to turn away from the rest of them.

“I made that one,” Finnick smirks, giving Peeta a wink. Though Peeta's cheeks redden slightly, he chuckles.

Annie tilts her head, frowning at Finnick. She doesn’t say anything, but they move onto a photo collage on the wall. Annie happily points herself out in pictures, saying Bo’s name, and matching Finnick’s face to a number of images, as well.

“That’s you,” Annie points out one of Finnick at the beach, hair drenched, hands on his hips as he strikes a pose. Though it's clearly an amateur photograph, he looks like a professional model, washboard abs, and little more than a speedo to cover his private area. Annie scans the picture, before turning to Finnick, analyzing him in turn. “You look different.”

“Better, or worse?” he raises a brow.

Annie purses her lips. “Better. Much better.”

“Thanks,” Finnick murmurs with a chuckle, squeezing her hand.

Annie flashes a grin, before tugging him further into the apartment, to look at something else.

Katniss watches them edge towards the open-concept kitchen. She stands around, in the center of the large living room. Peeta makes himself at home, looking at all of the different displays. Katniss realizes, when she spots the clock above Annie’s television, that it’s already 12:15. Cringing, she turns to Peeta, about to tell him the time, when Finnick speaks up.

“Do you want some coffee?” the taller man calls out. His fingers remain interlaced with Annie’s, as if he is afraid to let go of her.

“Decaf,” Peeta replies, just as Katniss is about to say no. Katniss cringes, and Peeta frowns at her.

“Can I have popcorn?” Annie asks Finnick.

“Sure,” he nudges her slightly, playfully, but she just gives another shy smile, and looks over at another painting. “You guys can make yourselves at home, uh- oh. Oh, fuck, I don’t know your names, do I?”

“I’m Peeta Mellark,” Peeta gives a slight smile, eyeing Katniss to prompt her.

Finnick raises a brow, and Katniss reluctantly swallows the words she wants to say.

“I’m Katniss,” she introduces her in monotone, proud for being more bored sounding than irritated.

“Katniss Everdeen,” Peeta finishes off.

“Well, Katniss and Peeta, you guys can make yourselves at home.”

“Thanks,” Peeta replies, flopping onto the couch, while Finnick and Annie head into the kitchen.

“Peeta, get up,” Katniss glares.

“What? Why?”

“The tickets, Peeta!”

“Oh, shit-- but... well-”

Katniss huffs. “Don’t give me that-“

“We can’t just leave, Katniss.” Peeta shakes his head. “I want to make sure she’s really okay before we go.”

Katniss bites her tongue, looking over and watching as Annie continues to hold Finnick’s hand. The ‘coffee’ is apparently set up, but Finnick is pulling out cups, milk, and sugar, all one-handed.

_She looks fine to me._

“D’you guys want to watch a movie or something?” Finnick calls out. “There’s supposed to be this discount on one new release that’s still in theaters. You’re welcome to choose one.”

"Does that include Captain Abernathy?" Peeta casually mentions.

"Yeah, I think so. Don't see why not."

Katniss glares daggers at her boyfriend.

Doubly so when he agrees.

* * *

 

The door to the apartment building opens, Peeta having buzzed her through the front. The desk security scan in Katniss's Driver's License, before she heads towards the South Wing's elevator. The murmur of conversations, someone laughing, and the tune of instrumental lobby music contrasts with the silence from the other night. A cup of coffee, a three-hour movie later, and the girl they stayed to check on had fallen into a deep sleep against her boyfriend's chest. Katniss had scrambled to leave as soon as the credits rolled, practically dragging Peeta out of there with rushed, _"Thanks, goodnight!"_

She's watching the light-up numbers slowly decrease, absentmindedly wondering if they shouldn't check on the couple. Annie... Circa, was it? And Finnick Odair. He sounded like either a trust-fund prick, or a porn star.

She feels someone coming up to stand next to her, the fragrance of roses and sweet peas, delicate and intoxicating scents. Katniss pointedly keeps herself from turning around to inhale the delicious scent. A few other people gather, before the doors to the shaft open. Trying to keep from being pushed aside, the car slowly settles as the doors slide shut once again, everyone neatly tucked inside. It's then that the source of the scent becomes obvious. A bouquet of sweet pea flowers (deep maroon with a hint of pink), and two dewy, dark pink roses, sit in a seaglass mason jar, with a thank-you note tied to the front by green lanyard. Katniss's eyes flick up, meeting with seagreen orbs. Auburn hair is plaited into a twisted bun, the cocktail dress from the other night replaced by a business suit. The woman holding the bouquet gives Katniss a warm smile, before motioning to the jar.

"For a friend," she says, brightly, across the chest of a man in a three-piece suit. The cheery disposition, and the brightness of her smile leaves Katniss staring at her. This isn't some innocent, confused woman who needs protection. Annie holds out the jar, reaching across the suited man between them with an apologetic smile. "Do you want a sprig? They mean thank you. We all sort of need to thank someone, right?"

The doors open, and the two are pushed apart for a time. Once the crowd has thinned out, after a few more stops, Annie scoots over to Katniss.

"Which floor are you?"

Katniss clears her throat. "Um, my boyfriend's floor."

"Oh, that's sweet! Here, they're also associated with blissful pleasure." Annie gives her a wink, and Katniss is surprised at the difference in her demeanor.

"Who are you thanking?" Katniss asks, despite knowing.

"Oh, someone who helped me out the other day," Annie gives a sudden laugh. "My boyfriend, he said this guy was really nice. And his girlfriend."

Katniss nods, trying not to snort at that- Finnick, who had been exchanging glares with her, had called Katniss nice?

"What were their names?"

Annie tilts her head away from Katniss, eyeing her carefully. "Katniss and Peeta."

Katniss smiles slightly, as the doors open up to Peeta's floor. "He'll be glad to see you."

Both getting off on the same floor, understanding dawns on Annie's face. She throws her arms around Katniss's shoulders.

"Thank you for making sure I was okay." Annie pulls away, looking down at the flowers, seeming a little embarrassed.

"You're welcome," Katniss replies, before holding out her hand. "I'm Katniss Everdeen. Honestly, we’re both just glad you’re okay. And that Finnick knew... how to take care of you."

"Nice to meet you, Katniss." Annie shakes her hand heartily, just keeping the water from the mason jar from spilling. "I'm Annie Cresta. And... I'd really like for you to have one of these.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> *Handler, the name of the fictional town in which Katniss and Peeta grew up is based on the word Händler, German which loosely translates to ‘merchant,’ or ‘dealer.’  
> *Sommen, the hamlet of Handler where Katniss grew up translates to ‘seam’ from Norwegian sømmen.
> 
> thank you for reading! I'm considering writing more going more into what exactly triggered/occurred with Annie, but I haven't fully decided. <3


End file.
